


Honesty Has a New Face

by cadkitten



Series: To Live A Dream [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety Disorder, Blindfolds, Bondage, Kinky, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Tentacle Sex, Voyeurism, pseudo-bestiality, shape shifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Tim’s found that being honest gets him absolutely everywhere he wants to be. Not just sexually, but with a myriad of things in his life. He never really expected that having sex with so many people would have opened the doors for so much more, but it has.





	Honesty Has a New Face

**Author's Note:**

> For my writing challenge #18 Tentacles. Sequel to “To Live A Dream”.  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "This Is It" by 6am
> 
> Ngl guys, I told ya'll this one would be fucked up. And boy howdy _it is_.

Tim flexed his toes against the mattress, a shiver sliding through him as he grinned up at the ceiling. This was it… _this_ was what heaven felt like. 

Ever since he’d had his night – the night he’d termed his _extensive sexuality_ \- he’d felt a lot more freedom to just be who he was. To want whatever he wanted. 

There was no more guilt associated with the intensity of his desire to fortify a good amount of his relationships sexually. Nothing left him aching and _regretting_ anymore. Instead, if he wanted, he felt like he could reasonably be honest about it. Of course that honesty was different with every single person. In some cases it meant simply being honest with himself even if his mouth remained shut. Kaldur fell into that particular realm. His relationship prevented Tim from acting there; it was pointless to show his hand when it would only strain things between them, especially if there was any chance Kaldur felt something back. 

With Damian, it meant understanding that their fights might not be set off for the actual reason they were fighting. Twice now they’d actually ended up tangled up on the mats, hands fisted in one another’s clothing, kissing as if that had truly been the entirety of their disagreement. One of those times Tim knew Bruce had walked in, knew there had been an instant of hesitation before he’d walked right back out. He understood that it had less to do with it being Damian and more to do with making sure both parties had wanted what was happening before he let it be whatever it was.

Things had yet to go further than that again, but Tim was certain that day would come.

Honesty with Dick had meant lazy hand jobs in his apartment, frantic groping on several rooftops. It meant lingering kisses before they parted ways and it meant being brutally honest about everything else going on in both of their lives. 

With Bruce it had meant feeling free to drop down on the couch next to him and just lean against his side. It meant being pretty open about how hot being anywhere near the computer with him got Tim now that he had imagery to go with such an event. 

So far, it hadn’t meant having sex again, but Tim didn’t mind that. They shared plenty. Looks that spoke volumes, smiles that meant they’d both accepted their affection for one another went far beyond that of mentor and mentee. It meant _comfort_ instead of a vague sense of unease whenever he was in Bruce’s or Batman’s presence and _that_ had meant an easier time in the field. 

Being honest had also meant Tim had made peace in his mind with the fact that when he thought of the most comforting thing on the face of the planet, he thought of Clark. It had meant that in the midst of his last anxiety attack that it hadn’t been his fingers fumbling to text Dick to try to help him calm down. Instead, it had been a strangled sob of Clark’s name, had meant the warmth of his arms around him, holding him as he shook and clutched at Clark’s work shirt. 

It had meant hours afterward of Clark simply lying next to him in bed, rubbing soothing circles on his back and occasionally departing to resolve something and then coming straight back to him. It had meant falling asleep next to him and feeling better than he’d ever felt after having a panic attack.

More than anything, it meant he’d shared a piece of his life he’d kept restricted to only Bruce and Dick with someone else. Someone who didn’t need to know for _their_ safety… but someone who knew for _Tim’s_. 

When Tim really thought about all of it, his little night had been the best thing to ever happen to him and he _knew_ he had Dick and every single person who’d come to him to thank for that. 

The cool slick slide of something up his arm brought him back to the present and he rolled his head to the side, watched as the writhing surging mass of green resolved back into Gar’s usual form, smiled in return to the grin he received from him. 

“Earth to Robin.”

Tim huffed out a little laugh, curling his toes again and tipping his head back, feeling the pull of his mask on his face. He rolled his hips and experimentally pulled at the restraints on his wrists. He could get out if he wanted to, they were loose enough he knew at least three ways to get out of them in one hell of a hurry, but tight enough it gave him the illusion he was looking for in this. 

Some part of him wasn’t sure how he trusted Gar with restraining him before he’d so much as allowed it to happen with anyone else. The other part simply nudged at his mind, whispering that of course he trusted his teammates enough to do such things with them. If he didn’t, then he reasonably shouldn’t be working with them. Of that much, he was certain.

Gar’s warm fingertips trailed up his side. “Are you sure you’re okay with whatever I dream up? I mean, I don’t know if Nightwing told you, but I’ve got some _ideas_ for sure.”

“He didn’t tell me what they were _specifically_ , but he told me your imagination would take me places if I wanted it to.”

The bed dipped and Gar was leaning over him, one knee between Tim’s thighs. “You know I _shapeshift_ , right?”

Tim let out a laugh at that. “Trust me, I’m aware.”

“Like… during sex?”

Tim lifted his hand, used the tiny bit of slack in his bindings to trail one finger down Gar’s arm. “ _I know_.”

He watched Gar’s entire body shiver, saw the desire wash over his face in such a blatant way that Tim idly wondered how he’d never actually let his brain follow that particular path when thinking about Gar before. Now that it did, he found himself strangely aroused by the idea of not knowing what was going to happen to him here. 

Wetting his lips, he made his decision. “Touch the left side of my mask, just next to the lens. It’ll turn off my lenses if you press it four times. Once to turn them back on – if I ask for it or if you want them back on for any reason.”

Gar hesitated and then reached for him. Everything went dark a second later and Tim’s breath hitched in response, his senses lengthening in other places, making up for it immediately, just as he’d been trained to do. Just as he’d spent hours with a blindfold on, taking down every training drone he’d ever created. His hands flexed, longing for the feeling of his staff. He shifted and settled on holding the chains keeping him in place.

The bed shifted again and then Gar’s fingers were sliding inside him, exploring where Tim had already prepped himself, seeming to experiment with how much Tim could take before his breath caught or his hips rose. He pushed it until Tim winced and then everything disappeared for a few startling seconds. 

He heard the faintest sound that he had always associated with Gar sliding between his forms and he smiled, knowing he was in for a surprise now. 

Warm slick tendrils slid over him, each one so tiny that it felt more like being tangled in one of Ivy’s plants than anything else. Hundreds of them slid over his body, exploring, probing, drawing gasps and moans from him as they explored until Tim was certain he knew what Gar was doing. Understood that he was finding all of Tim’s most pleasurable spots in the most efficient way imaginable and he had to bite his lip not to grin at that. 

Two thicker slick appendages spread his legs, slowly binding around them, holding them spread and slightly off the bed. Something heavier rested over his abdomen and then – abruptly – he was being penetrated. 

He opened his mouth to cry out in pleasure only to have his voice cut off by another invading his mouth.

Tim squirmed, arching as the one in his ass began to rather frantically thrust. He could hear Gar panting, _knew_ he was enjoying himself so completely that it had to be bringing him to a whole new level of arousal if – as Tim suspected – he’d never been allowed to let go like this. 

The one in his mouth disappeared and Tim gasped as it came to lay heavily across his throat, slowly pushed down on him. Not enough to cut off his air, but enough to definitely make itself known. He shivered at that, at realizing that Gar knew he liked being choked during sex. 

“ _Robin_.”

Gar sounded strained, like he was definitely about to cum, and then Tim knew he’d been right, the appendage in his ass starting to throb, the sensation of something shooting up inside him telling him Gar had just orgasmed in this vaguely tentacled form. 

Gar slipped out of his body and Tim heard the faint pop of him shifting forms again. “Can I… are you okay with more?”

“ _Yes_.”

There was a groan, another tiny pop, and then Tim felt the bed shift in a way that told him Gar was on all fours in whatever form he’d taken this time. He heard a _pant_ and some frantic shifting, a faint metallic jingle, and then a thick cock pushing up inside him.

Fur brushed against Tim’s belly and his thighs. There was nothing helping hold him this time, only the broadness of whatever shape Gar had taken holding his legs apart as he was penetrated. The bed shifted in such a way that Tim realized it was Gar’s excitement coming out as he did this. There was a little pant again and then he was being _fucked_.

There was no other word for it, for the way the bed was moving, the way Gar’s cock was being thrust frantically into him. Tim’s own cock lay thick against his belly – the tip sticky with precum – rubbing at his skin as he was jostled by every thrust. 

“Gar!”

He received a huff of breath in return, the thrusts picking up and then with a snarl, he was all but impaled on the cock, which seemed to be growing by the second, thickening inside Tim until Gar’s frantic ruts didn’t move him in the slightest. It was only then that he felt the rush of cum filling him up, felt the way Gar’s cock was throbbing with each spray of cum.

There was a lot more shifting, tugging at what Tim’s mind finally settled on as being rather like a _knot_ , and then the flop of Gar settling on the bed, his hind legs tangled with Tim’s and what had to be a _tail_ brushing idly over his abdomen.

Tim experimentally twitched his muscles, heard the way Gar started panting, and he eased up, laying there and waiting with Gar until his cock went flaccid and he could pull out. 

Another little pop and Gar was instantly over Tim, his hands holding Tim’s waist and then warmth was enveloping his cock and Tim knew Gar was sucking him off.

His head tipped backward and he whined, arching up into his mouth as he went after him with all he had. Trembling, Tim fisted his hands, straining for his orgasm, needing it so badly his belly was quivering with it. 

He needed to _see_ , needed it so desperately that for one fleeting second, he almost whispered for Clark to come do it for him. He choked on the plea, instead twisted his wrist in _just_ the right way and put stress on the attaching joint on the cuffs, wrenched it back the other way and heard the quiet _pling_ of the cheap metal giving way right at the point where the chain attached to the cuff, just where he knew it would give. 

Hitting the side of his mask, his vision returned and it took all of two more sucks from Gar for Tim to jerk his hips upward as he started to cum. A cry that would have been a scream if he’d been any less in control left him and then warmth spread through his entire body as he spilled in Gar’s waiting mouth. 

Tim heard the quietest moan from the room beside theirs and he bit his lip, blushing faintly at the idea that Kon had been listening to the whole thing. That he’d probably been able to _see_ whatever Gar had turned into to fuck him. 

Gar came up off him and was beside him in a rush, quickly taking off his other restraint and then laying down beside him, hands rubbing quickly as the wrist Tim had yanked at to free himself. “You didn’t have to do that, I would have let you out… you just had to ask.” There was strain in Gar’s voice, a frantic note as if he thought something had gone wrong somewhere and Tim realized what it may have seemed like to anyone that wasn’t him. 

He reached up, pushing his hand along Gar’s cheek, fingers soothing there. “I’m fine, Gar… really. I just wanted to see and I didn’t want you to stop because I was so close. That’s all it was… I swear.”

He waited until he saw the relief painting Gar’s features, only let his hand drop then, allowing himself to smile at him, his head tipped slightly to the side. “Was it good for you?”

Gar’s embarrassed duck of his head told Tim everything. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Tim smiled as he reached to clasp Gar’s hand in his own, giving it a good squeeze. “Me, too.”

He gave himself a few minutes to get himself gathered back up mentally and then pulled himself from the bed, carefully getting his uniform back on and moving to the door, slipping back out into the hallway and heading for the showers.

This whole being open with others thing was definitely a decision he was going to have to stick with. It clearly held its advantages and so far absolutely no detriments as long as he played his cards correctly and to the right people.


End file.
